


Spellbound

by seductivembrace



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductivembrace/pseuds/seductivembrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set early in season 2 AtS. Angel and Cordelia go undercover to get the goods on a philandering husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spellbound

Angel walked into the lobby of the Hyperion and glanced at Cordelia, who was thoroughly engrossed in the computer in front of her, punching away at the keys hard enough to cause serious damage to her manicure… and the keyboard. He knew that she was aware of his presence, however, given the tell-tale flush to her cheeks and her quickening heart rate. 

He opened his mouth, intent on saying “Good Morning” but she cut him off before he had a chance. 

“Not. One. Word,” she informed him, pointing a finger in his direction. She still refused to look his way. 

“Cordelia—” 

“I mean it, Angel. I don’t want to talk about it, other than to say that I expect hazard pay for last week.” 

“ _Hazard_ pay! What for?” 

“What do _you_ think?” 

“Was it bad? I mean—of _course_ it wasn’t bad. What the hell am I saying? Been around a long time. I think I would know how to make it good—” he muttered the last. 

“Angel,” Cordelia warned. 

“What? You’re the one talking about hazard pay. Talk about insulting,” Angel huffed. 

“Just listen to yourself. Think about it, Angel. It was good. Damn good,” she informed him. _‘Mind-blowing,’_ she mentally added. “Given the… quantity— Well, you figure it out, smarty-pants.” 

Angel tried, brows drawing together as he attempted to decipher just what it was Cordelia was trying to say. Then it hit him. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Oh! Here,” she added, thrusting a piece of paper in his direction as she stood. “It’s the invoice for Mrs. Patterson itemizing our expenses. I’ve left off my hazard pay, but I expect to see it in my paycheck, buster.” She poked him in the chest. “Got it?” 

Angel scrambled to grab the piece of paper before it fluttered to the ground, at the same time struggling not to wince as her fingernail jabbed into him. He couldn’t help but notice the healing bite marks on her neck when her shirt shifted slightly and his nostrils flared, his demon now close to the surface. 

“I’m taking the rest of the day off. Actually, make that the rest of the week. Call it PTSD.” 

“PTSD?” 

“Post traumatic stress disorder,” she told him then flounced out the front door, oblivious to his struggle. 

Once he got himself under control, Angel sighed and looked down at the sheet of paper Cordelia had handed him, eyes widening marginally at the exorbitant amount. “Should charge her double,” he muttered as he tossed the paper into the unpaid invoice bin. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

_One week earlier…_  

Angel walked into the lobby and leaned against the counter. Cordelia was perusing several pamphlets, but looked up at his greeting, a wide smile on her face. 

“What?” he asked dubiously, wary of the look she was giving him. 

“Pack your bags. We’re going on vacation.” She stood up and waved the pamphlet under his nose. “We’ve got a client.” 

“A client?” he asked, snatching the paper out of her hands before she hit him in the face with it. 

“Yep. And she didn’t even flinch when I quoted our going rate— _plus_ expenses. Apparently if she catches her husband in the act, the pre-nup is null and void and she’s entitled to half.” 

“The Seychelles?” he asked, reading the name printed across the top. 

“Uh huh. The Caribbean is _so_ last year. Anyway, Mrs. Patterson found an incriminating piece of evidence that indicated her husband would be staying at the Chateau St. Cloud this coming week, instead of at a merger meeting like he’d originally told her.” 

“So, we’re what—?” 

“Going undercover, silly. I’ve already booked our room.” She didn’t add that it was the resort’s Deluxe Room as it was the only one available on such short notice. “I was just about to buy our plane tickets. I’m thinking first class. We have to get into character, and coach just won’t do.” 

Knowing he was going to regret it, Angel sighed and nodded. “Fine.” 

“I’m raiding the petty cash. I need to go shopping.” 

“Shopping? What for?” 

“Angel,” she began, as if speaking to a simpleton. “The Chateau St. Cloud is an exclusive resort catering to the rich. I can’t go there wearing yesterday’s rags. You can’t either, now that I think about it. Better give me your credit card. I’ll pick up a few things for you while I’m out.” 

Angel could feel a headache coming on and rather than argue, handed over his plastic without comment other than to say, “Try not to buy out the entire store; the card has a limit.” 

“Sure thing, boss.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Try not to look impressed,” Cordelia hissed, jabbing Angel in the ribs. They were alone in the back of the limousine, waiting for the driver to come around and open the door. “We’re rich. We expect things to be like this.” 

Angel glanced at the setting sun through the tinted windows. “Kinda hard not to, Cordy. I mean, they’ve got the place spelled so I can walk about during the daytime.” 

He pointed to the place in the brochure that said just that. It was a brochure specifically for the resort’s non-human guests, and Angel had immediately been identified as non-human by their driver. The two-page paper highlighted Chateau St. Cloud guests do’s and don’ts as well as their can’s and can’ts, all thanks to various wards and spells surrounding the resort. 

Yet, even after having read – twice – the part about the resort being vampire friendly, he was still hesitant to see if it was, indeed, true. 

“As long as the other guests keep their fangs, tentacles, or whatever to themselves, I’ve got no problem with it. To each their own. Besides, I’m sure you’re not the only rich demon wanting a vacation.” 

“Are you even listening to what you’re saying?” 

“What? Their money spends just like everyone else’s. And like the paper says, they’ve got wards up that prevent anyone from getting nasty.” 

“You hope.” 

Her retort was cut off as the door opened and the driver assisted them out of the car. 

“Miss Chase. Mr. Angel. If you just walk through the main doors, the front desk will get you settled. I’ll be along momentarily with your bags.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“There’s only one bed,” Angel announced unnecessarily, once they were alone in their room. He swallowed nervously, blocking out images Angelus was sending his way – he and Cordelia locked together in a heated embrace, him making good use of the four-poster bed. 

“It’s a big bed,” Cordelia replied as she walked over to one of the windows and peered outside. “You stay on your half and I’ll stay on mine. I’m going to take a quick shower and get changed. Then we can go get something to eat and see if we can spot Mr. Patterson.” 

“Yeah. Okay. I’m just gonna—uh—” Angel pointed to the bar. “Get a drink.” _‘A very stiff drink,’_ he mentally added. Maybe it would drown out the voices screaming, “Take her. Take her now.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Cordelia stepped under the shower spray and mentally shook herself. Ever since Angel had signed on the dotted line and taken possession of the key to their room, she’d become hyper aware of the vampire. It had taken everything she had to walk over to the window, only to stare blindly outside, as Angel made a comment about the single bed. All she’d wanted to do was strip him out of his clothes – clothes that she’d picked out and looked damned good on him, she readily admitted – throw him onto the bed and put it to good use. 

Crazy, not to mention extremely dangerous given his “no happy” clause, but there it was. She had a hankering for some serious Angel sex-age. 

“It’s just the atmosphere,” she berated herself as she shampooed her hair, rinsed and repeated. “We’ll get some dinner. Angel will put his foot in his mouth, and things will be back to normal.” 

Or so she hoped. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

By the time dessert arrived, Cordelia knew she was fighting a losing battle. Little did she realize that Angel was in much the same predicament as her. Determined to ignore her increasing libido – and for Angel, no less – she turned to the few other occupants occupying the intimate dining room. 

“Can you hear what he’s saying?” she asked Angel, gesturing with her head towards the man and woman seated several tables away. 

“They’re not really saying anything right now.” 

“Oh. Well, maybe we should follow them when they leave so we know which room they’re staying in.” 

Angel sighed. “They just got here. I don’t think we can justify staying at this table until they’re finished. We’ll go back to our room and I’ll sniff them out later.” 

Cordelia wrinkled her nose but didn’t comment. 

Back in their room, Cordelia stepped out of her heels and headed towards the wardrobe. Knowing that she’d be sharing a room with Angel, she’d deliberately packed her most unflattering pajamas, and her hand closed around the matching set of boxer shorts and tank top before heading to the bathroom. 

“I’ll just be a minute,” she called out, “Then the bathroom’s all yours.” 

Cordelia closed the door and stared at herself in the mirror, jutted her bottom lip and blew the hair out of her eyes. “Wash your face, change your clothes and walk out there. It’s just Angel.” 

Meanwhile, Angel was saying much the same thing as he poured himself another drink. At a sudden thought, he sniffed at the alcohol now filling his glass, frowning when he could detect no sign of it having been tampered with. 

“There goes that theory,” he grumbled, swilled the contents in his glass and swallowed it down in one. 

A minute later, Cordelia walked out, and Angel reached for the bottle, not surprised at how badly his hand shook. 

“Drink?” he called out. 

“As long as it’s not that. Do they have any wine?” 

Angel checked the mini fridge, nodded, then poured a glass. He brought it over, handed it to her. Their hands happened to touch. 

And that was it. 

The glass fell forgotten to the marble floor; not even its shattering was enough to penetrate the haze that seemed to envelope both Cordelia and Angel. 

“Ang—” 

His name was cut off as his mouth settled over hers. Cordelia could do nothing but follow along as Angel walked them backwards until the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed. Then she was being lowered, but that was okay because Angel was stretching out on top of her. 

“Off,” she gasped in between kisses, shoving frantically at Angel’s shirt and sports coat. 

It took a minute since he was more interested in getting her out of her own top, finally tearing it down the middle – much to her objection – when it seemed stuck beneath her back. Her protest became a whimper of need when his lips closed around one pert nipple and he proceeded to suck it into his mouth. Her hands found their way into his hair, tugged it hard enough that he growled low in his throat. 

“Angel,” Cordelia whined, not sure if she wanted to hold him close or push him away to get him out of his clothes. 

Thankfully, he made the decision for her, pushing himself up off her to stand beside the bed. With vampire speed, he stripped out of his clothes, and Cordelia heard the distinct sound of tearing when the garments didn’t yield fast enough. 

Her eyes widened as she got her first look at him. She gave a brief thought about his size and how he would ever fit. Then he was back, taking her mind off things as he teased the boxer shorts down off her hips and then her legs. 

The look in his eyes was enough to make her blush, and she did – a full-body blush that left Angel grinning – a look that was entirely too Angelus-y for her liking. 

Reason returned, however fleetingly. Just enough for her to question what they were doing… and _why_ they were doing what they were doing. 

“Do you think it’s a spell?” 

Angel didn’t answer, too intent on sliding her down towards the end of the bed. 

“Angel. Answer me. Do you think it’s a spell?” 

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” he replied as he dropped to his knees. 

“What do you mean you… uh…?” her voice trailed off as she leaned up on her elbows and saw what Angel was staring at with such rapt attention. Couldn’t look away as he slowly lowered his head. 

“Oh!” Her strength deserted her and her head fell back to the bed. Her eyes squeezed shut, her fingers gripped the comforter. “Oh _god_. Angel.” 

Rational thought left her as Angel worked her body to a fevered pitch. It mattered not that she was, in all likelihood, going to bring back the return of Angelus with what they were doing. Nor did she pause to wonder why she was having sex with Angel in the first place. 

All she knew was that she needed him desperately. Like an ache that wouldn’t subside until he was inside her. 

“Angel,” she whined, and he instinctively knew what she meant – that her body wouldn’t be appeased by his mouth alone. 

He joined her on the bed, lying on his side facing her. She was unable to look away as he lowered his head to kiss her. 

And kiss her, he did. Until she was straining against him, her arms grasping at his shoulders. 

“Cordelia,” he murmured, his voice gruff with emotion. One hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

Cordelia nodded, though he’d posed no question, and rolled over onto her back. 

“Need you,” was whispered against her throat. Blunt teeth nibbled at her neck and she unconsciously tipped her head to the side. 

“Yes. Angel, please.” 

No more words were spoken as Angel settled between her legs. He began to fill her and it was like her body turned to liquid, melting around him as he slowly slid home. 

After the disaster with Wilson last year, she’d embraced celibacy wholeheartedly. She’d told Angel that it had been normal. Safe and normal. Now, here with him, was anything but that. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She peered up at him from beneath lowered lashes and noticed that he was biting his lip and his eyes were squeezed shut… as if he was struggling with himself. 

“Don’t hold back,” she told him, not wanted to be cheated of the experience. She wanted him – man and demon. It never dawned on her that something was compelling her to submit completely. 

She only felt disappointment that he didn’t take what she so freely offered. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Cordelia awoke when the sun shone in through their window. Her arm reached out, expecting to find Angel in bed beside her. 

He wasn’t. 

She sat up, eyes darting about their room, but there was no sign of him. She did, however, find a note on his pillow, and she smiled as she read it. 

Apparently, he’d gone off to gather incriminating evidence on Mr. Patterson and would be back shortly. 

“I hope to be back before you wake up. But, if not, order something from room service,” she murmured aloud, reading from the note. “Sounds like a plan. But first, a shower.” 

Several hours later, after a surprise visit by Angel in the shower, she was back in bed, the vampire snuggled up beside her. Angel had gotten the evidence they needed to prove Mr. Patterson’s infidelity, which meant their job was done and they could go home. 

But, just as the thought materialized, it drifted away, and they were once more reaching for each other. Eager to slake the lust that was never far from the surface. 

By the third day of their allotted week, they no longer left their room, content to have their meals delivered. Angel, Cordelia was quick to find out, was insatiable – not that she objected in the least. The second Angel touched her, she practically melted in his arms. 

There were worse things than spending a week in bed with a vampire bent on your pleasure. 

_‘Worse things, indeed,’_ she thought as the tray of fruit went crashing to the floor and she was pulled on top of a horny Angel. 

The night before they were due to check out, Cordelia finally got Angel to bite her. It was like nothing – and everything – she could have expected. There was pain, of course, but it paled in comparison to the connection she felt with him at that moment. 

Afterward, they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, their bodies sated for the first time since they’d checked into their room. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel ignored his glass of pig’s blood as he relived the previous week. 

His and Cordelia’s time together had been idyllic until the day they were due to check out. 

They’d woken that last morning, full of smiles, until it dawned on them just what they’d done, and had been doing for the majority of their stay. Cordelia had jumped out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. “Oh god,” had been a frequent phrase out of her mouth and she’d barely had shirt and shoes on when she’d fled their room. 

It had been a long flight home, and Cordelia had studiously ignored him the entire time. 

He’d found out – once he’d gotten back – from a laughing Lorne that the particular resort they’d stayed at was a favorite among the demon populace, especially vampires. 

“I’m surprised you never heard of it, Angelcakes. Flame-free sunlight, an attentive bed-partner more than able to meet a demon’s insatiable sex drive. It’s a vampire’s nirvana.” 

“So, a spell then?” 

“Yes and no. The resort’s spell enhanced one’s natural tendencies. There has to be true affection between the couple for it to work.” 

It was that statement that had Angel sitting behind his desk in a brood-fest to end all brood-fests. Several times he’d stood up, intent on braving Dennis in order to speak with Cordelia. Just as many times, he’d sat back down again. 

It wasn’t like anything could come of it. 

He couldn’t risk seeing a return of Angelus with the two of them getting together. That he’d not lost his soul already was something akin to amazement, because he’d definitely experienced a moment of perfect happiness. 

Even now, days later, he could still taste her in his mouth. 

Frustrated, he knocked his untouched glass of blood off his desk. Just the thought of drinking it was enough to turn his stomach. 

As he stared at the blood soaking into his rug, a thought occurred to him and he reached for his phone. 

“Lorne!” 

“Hello, Schnookums.” 

“Would the spell prevent Angelus from returning?” 

“Huh?” 

“The spell on the resort… would it prevent my soul from slipping away if I experienced a moment of pure happiness?” 

“Spells don’t cancel each other out. That’s not the way it works.” 

“So, if it wasn’t the resort—” 

“Then it’s the spell on your soul,” Lorne finished. 

Angel smiled. 

He had a witch to call.

The End


End file.
